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Count That Day Lost
by George Eliot

If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard,
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went--
Then you may count that day well spent.

But if, through all the livelong day,
You've cheered no heart, by yea or nay--
If, through it all you've nothing done that you can trace
That brought the sunshine to one face--
No act most small that helped some soul and nothing cost--
Then count that day as worse than lost.

Poem found at:

Maury's Place
(Favorite Poems)